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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440650">Running Never Did Anyone Any Good</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jox22/pseuds/Jox22'>Jox22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>3x24, Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and injury mentioned, Conversations, F/M, Wings, idk still figuring out this tag and posting HIW</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:08:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jox22/pseuds/Jox22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>idk alt to season 3 ending , why because everyone has one.</p><p>What if Chloe is more worried and determined to get to the bottom of things then frightened at the end of season three. What if Lucifer needed a bit more help then he let on. What if they actually had a conversation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Running Never Did Anyone Any Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His body jerked, sudden and violent. He clenched his shoulders stopping all movement in an effort to gain some control, stubbornly pushing his cheek against the mattress and focusing on his fist clenched on the dark bedding. His body thrummed with adrenaline so heady even his vision vibrated and he fought the instinct to fight, find safety. He wasn't falling, he wasn't.</p><p>An eternity later, or maybe a few moments, he let out a long exhale, slightly stuttered, and focused on the blur just beyond his fist. He furrowed his brows, the dream, nightmare really, still lingered leaving him wholly unsettled and confused. </p><p>Implausibly, a vision sleeps next to him, seemingly at peace. She rests with her hair loose, one arm tucked under her head. His fist slowly unclenches, fingers stretching across the few inches separating them, stopping just before meeting her own, close enough he could feel the heat from her skin. </p><p>His thoughts are fragmented and he tries to gather his wits, a flex of his shoulders and he knows his wings are out, he hadn't the energy or care to put them up after. He’d sought out the bed and the possibility of escape because to think on anything further, was not an option at the time. </p><p>Chloe in his bead and his wings out didn't belong in the same head space, or they hadn’t previously. </p><p>His eyes take her in greedily; this wasn't a dream. She slept as close as possible, a matter of inches separating their bodies, tucked under his wing as if this was how it's always been. Her features are smooth in sleep, unafraid, unlike the last time his eyes had laid on her. Her shocked comprehension, and subsequent flinch backward as he approached, sat in the back of his mind gleeful to replay on repeat if he allowed it. </p><p>There was blood smeared just under her chin and on her hairline faint as if she's tried to clean up, and when he notices this he notices more blood on her hand around her nails where she didn't quite wash it away. A dark concerning bruise peeked out of the steel blue dress shirt she had absconded with leaching across her skin in a mocking invasion, a reminder of betrayal. </p><p>She wore nothing else. the bedding kicked away or discarded in the hot weather. </p><p>He doesn't understand how this moment came about or why, but that seems to be the theme for him lately. Never quit knowing what or how and always just making the wrong move. He's not allowed any control, he remembers that but he never liked it. </p><p>He knows he should move away from her, he should, but he's always been a needy bastard. The moments with her will end soon enough so he’ll steal a bit more of her time where he can. But he should move, should leave. He wonders if it would be kinder to at least say goodbye versus just leaving her. Would it benefit her to allow her to rail at him and cast him away. ‘Selfish again.’ he thinks, an excuse to pretend to hate her for sending him away. He looks at her, and remembers he should move away. </p><p>Her eyes snap open as if roused by his thoughts, and she's reaching for him grasping at him as he draws his next breath, to apologize, to beg, he’s not sure which or if they're even different at this point.  </p><p>Her hand digs into his back, fingers scrambling for purchase against the base of his wing joints as she drags her body flush against his, her eyes raking across his form searching for some kind of reassurance. She tucks her body further under his chest where the dream had left him so he's forced to shift and settle an arm around her body, his hand coming around to cradle her shoulder and if it brings her that much closer well that's just circumstance. </p><p>Her eyes search him and frown. “You left me, again.” She accuses. The hurt and anger are starkly undermined as she presses their bodies closer.</p><p>“You were frightened.” He tries, confused and wary, explaining everything and nothing.</p><p>“I was stupid.” Her breath hitches and the tears start. </p><p>His own chest clenches and he shakes his head pulling back, to do what he's not sure, and she doesn't give him the chance to anyway as her other arm wiggles free of her body and the mattress pushing up between them to clamp around his neck and a leg comes around to further ensnare him.</p><p>“Please.” she begs. “don't go.” </p><p>He shakes his head again and he's sorry for it as she cries further but he’s so thoroughly confused at this point he’s at a loss of what to do. They are so far flung from the rigid stumbling dance they've been doing this whole past year that he's afraid that his injuries were that serious and he's stuck again in a loop. </p><p>Her eyes burn into his pleading, but he tears his gaze away; she tucks her face into the space between him and the mattress, her breath hot against his neck. </p><p>“I'm a monster.” He states; admits brokenly, because this time she knows, this time she believes. His own grip on her relaxes reluctantly but he won't frighten her further doesn't dare assume to have the right to hold her closer when she should be running. </p><p>Her hand digging fretfully into his back releases and his heart clenches painfully as she pulls back. He expected it but it still pulls a strangled sound from his soul. His eyes that had snapped shut spring open as her fist comes down on his chest, once, twice. He drops her shoulder to catch her, if only to stop her hurting her own hand, only for her to pull free again and latch back around his body pulling them close once more. </p><p>“Idiot” She insists. “Not to me.” </p><p>“But you saw. You have to believe me now. You saw me. You know what I am.” frustrated and still unsteady he firmly pushes her back. She comes away from him with a sob his own breath hitching in sympathy. She resists weakly now, a look passing her eyes that he recognizes, so he relents and settles on his side instead of away. Their ankles stay tangled and their hands clenched between them a frayed tether.</p><p>“I’m sorry” she begs. “I'll be better.” she offers. </p><p>He's only more horrified. He doesn't want this, he doesn't deserve her begging when she did nothing wrong. Her pleas grate against his own sense of ignominy, her debasement for him is a blasphemy against her own soul that he can't allow. She seems to understand some of the horror on his face and anger pushes through her tears.  </p><p>“Don’t.” she shakes him. “You can't put me on a pedestal. I'm not perfect, I'm not better than you.” She swallows thickly. “You did nothing wrong, he was trying to kill you, us, he never would have stopped.” </p><p>She's trying so hard to comfort him. Chloe before and Chloe now are, it's like listening to your favorite song that suddenly has a new verse, is it new or has it always been there you just always skipped to the next track before the song ended. </p><p>The setting sun burns just outside of the glass surrounding his home. A break in the curtains lets a molten orange beam cut across the bedroom. Light filters through his wing. Still out in all this, and draped over her body. Every breath or flex of muscle has the light chasing across her and if he flexes his feathers just so, the light caresses her thigh, shoulder, hip, cheek. </p><p>He doesn't know what he wants, ‘lies.’ his heart thumps, an old feeling awakens in his chest, and aches with a familiarity that he hasn't felt in a millennium. He doesn't want to be alone again, rejected again, it's all he has known for so very long. He had walked into a bar once and a dream of home and acceptance, one that he had not even known was there, was crushed by ones claiming to do what was right for him. He can feel himself falling again but if he is going to fall it will not be a blind descent.  </p><p>“Why are you here?” He prods because he doesn't trust, not after, that lesson was burned into him, but he wants to. </p><p>She flinches at his subtle rejection, another lesson learned and reinforced by recent events but she hangs on, it's not desperation, its hope. </p><p>“It's been three, four days? Since we gave our initial statements. You weren't answering. Amenadiel is gone, Maze is.” She untangles a hand to smooth at his frown. “Maze is recuperating. They tracked down his safe house, there were surveillance cameras. She admitted to working with him. We said he asked her to keep us busy, so we didn't interfere with his plans to win me back but she didn't know what he was up to until it was too late. When she confronted him he attacked her.” </p><p>“That’s a lie.” He grouses. </p><p>“Yes. Some of it, but one that makes better sense then the truth.” She looks away then only now focusing on the wing stretched above her. Her hand reaches out fingers ghosting over a spot void of feathers and highlighted by the fading light. She pulls back and her hand floats over his arm where the cut had been before she settles on his chest. </p><p>“Ella found bloodied feathers, and I remembered, the bullet holes.” her eyes were just a bit too large as her fingers pressed over his heart in assurance of a continued beat, then into his chest in parody of the gun shots. One, two, three, four, five, six. </p><p>“You just left. They said you were injured; releasing you for medical attention, to be questioned further later. You didn't talk to me, you were just gone.” </p><p>Her gaze is too weighted and he knows that she is talking of more than this instance, He looks away, guilty. He had hoped that walking away would be enough to spare her, but he wasn't blind, determined yes and very stupid, to selfish to stay away and too far in at the time to beg for forgiveness. He felt his heart clench with hers as she agreed numbly to ‘Just friends.’ <br/>
 <br/>
“I couldn't. I couldn't watch you pull away from me. Not again. Not in fear.” He had stepped forward in concern at the look on her face but this only sent her backwards stumbling into the stairs, he had not realized until then what he had become. </p><p>She nods accepting but not apologizing. “Your elevator was locked. I didn't even know it could do that.” They both give a tentative smile. “I strong-armed your security into unlocking it. He's not too happy with me.” </p><p>“I was terrified.” She doesn't allow him to pull away. “I’m allowed that. I am. But then, you were gone. Again. Injured and not responding. So I came looking for you. I needed to know.” </p><p>She looks again at his wings. “You were in the bathroom and there was so much blood.” her eyes are wide with the memory and she shivers. He concentrates and pulls up a memory, he had gone to the bathroom and started to dig out the bullets, they had irritated him as he had sought sleep. He doesn't remember details but he can guess that he collapsed at her arrival, her presents a balm and barb all at once. </p><p>She takes a deep breath. “I thought you were dead, and I, I couldn't.” She forces the tears back because she can't speak around them and she needs to explain. “I don't care what you look like.” She reaches up gripping his chin and forcing his false detachment away by locking her eyes to his. “It's not a lie. but I was frightened, I am still but not about you.” she grips tighter desperate for him to understand. “I know you, you are not a monster, you would never hurt me or anyone.” </p><p>He scoffs slightly but he just shakes his head. “I enjoyed it.” he whispers it like a shameful secret. </p><p>She releases his hands reluctantly and reaches up to fully cup his face. “Not maliciously. I don't believe that.” He doesn't quite know how to respond. He quite clearly remembers the glee and satisfaction of sending that bastard exactly where he belongs. Everything surrounding that moment is too sharp and confusing so he lets it go for now. </p><p>“Yes you have a temper, you can be single minded, frustrating.You can drive me crazy. And there's a lot more I don't understand, about you, everything, this is a lot. Everything I thought I knew is just up in the air and I have so many questions and concerns.” </p><p>He wants to apologize. But she protested with a firm press to his lips by her thumbs.</p><p>“Three years and you never lied and I never believed you. I am, was, angry with you. I might have no right to be but it feels felt like I've just been this game or joke to you. I want to believe that's not true.” She sighs “I do believe, but there's so much to talk through to sort out and re-learn so much I don't know.” </p><p>Her gaze focuses then hard and unwavering. “But what I do know. Is the thought of you dead or gone is something I can't live with.” </p><p>His tears fall then, he's not one to cry, not ever if he can help it, he vowed no one would ever see him like that again, but the tears come now, for her, for himself, for the tentative possibility that clings to each touch or grasp of their hands. And he wants, he wants, he wants. </p><p>“Stay with me, for a while more.” He breathes. She pulls away to hold his hands lightly. Something in his question furrows her brows and makes her hands shake. </p><p>“Promise me, promise you won’t leave. Not with talking to me first.” It's an old fear covered in white sheets where rejection and worth push up at sharp angles. She looks away to gather courage. “Remember...this is real isn't it? It’s..that's still true.. For me.” She looks at him fingers tightening with nerves. </p><p>“You make me vulnerable. And I make you vulnerable? Apparently literally.” A shake of her head pushes that conversation away. “But it won't mean anything if we keep...hiding who we really are. No more lies, or bluffs. From either of us.” </p><p>The back of this throat burns and the parts of himself that are still raw shudder at the new determination to expose and lance. “I…I don't always understand or know how to deal with how I feel, but I know that what we have is something special that I can only hope to be worthy of.” </p><p>He bravely reaches out, indulging at the feel of her skin, the beat of her pulse in her neck. He smirks but the sympathy in his eyes tames it as he pushes the edges of the shirt to the side to softy caress the edges of the bruise there. He reaches back to cup her chin thumb brushing across her bottom lip. </p><p>“I can't promise to never leave you, but I can assure you that there is no future where I would ever want to.” He sees her struggling to untangle this statement and he thinks of old obligations and punishments and very distantly of a family he fears will one day come down to once again rip him away from all that he knows. “I want this life. I want you and all we've built and may still build and I will fight for it if need be.” </p><p>“No more bluffing.” He vows. Her kiss comes then a gentle brush of her lips, new and open. Neither pushes for more and as the sun finally sets he tucks his wings away and and sits up to stretch she follows close behind.</p><p>He looks around still a bit self conscious in the situation. “Sorry I know I asked you to stay but I should have thought sooner, Beatrice ?” </p><p>Chloe's eyes soften in a way that makes his heart stumble. “She's with Dan. I let him know you were hurt more than you let on so I was staying to help.”  </p><p>“How about dinner then, I’m famished and I think I have steaks.” He stands and holds out a hand to help her out of the bed, his mood shifting brighter with new confidence, giving her a proper leer as the shirt she borrowed rides up when she scoot to the end of the bed. “Not that I'm complaining but why are you wearing my clothes?” </p><p>She gives a half-hearted glare but waves away the robe he offers, and pushes it back to him, his needs greater then hers being only in boxer briefs. “Wing triage is bloody, my outfits ruined by the way. You owe me.” She tries the joke but shivers and tuck into his side hugging his arm. “You don't remember any of it?” </p><p>He thinks back as they cross the penthouse. If he tries hard enough he can hear her concerned shout at finding him. “Its coming back. I am sorry I frightened you. Thank you for helping me.” his fingers smooth over hers and he brings them up for a kiss as they enter the kitchen. As she gives her hands a proper scrubbing he cleans the blood from her face and takes the excuse to kiss her again before moving away to start dinner leaving her smiling at the sink. </p><p>As he moves around the kitchen pulling out ingredients she moves with him to help, selecting potatoes rather than the rice from the options he holds up. They move around each other easily, standing too close or letting fingers graze both grinning like fools.</p><p>Chloe waits for Lucifer to pour the wine he had selected before giving him a brave look as they start eating. She imagines their conversations are going to be peppered with the fantastical from now on so she might as well jump in. “Once I got a hold of Maze she said I should have just left, you would have healed better. Will you?...I want to understand that better. Will you tell me?” </p><p>He wants to find a way around this conversation. He knows it will be difficult, he didn't handle it well himself and he's accustomed to life upheavals in the face of celestial drama. He wants to bluff, selfishly, because he fears after everything this will be the point that drives her away, but as he looks into her eyes he takes a deep breath and puts his faith, what remains of it, into himself, into her. He wants to believe, so he will.  </p><p>“Well to fully understand we should start at the beginning.” He grins as he cuts into the meat. </p><p>“In the beginning. The Angel Lucifer was cast out of heaven &amp; condemned to rule hell for all eternity.’ He pauses dramatically. ‘Until he decided to take a vacation.” </p><p>She rolls her eyes with a smile over her wine glass but gives him her full attention.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, </p><p>I'm moving things over from another site that shall not be named. </p><p>This is just an alternate season ending. Why because everyone has one so i figured might as well jump off that bridge. </p><p>Also. Yes i do realize that I have horrid grammar and a dyslexic relationship with spelling.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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